


The Moment Things Changed

by TH (TornThorn)



Series: Does Anyone Even Still Go Here? [1]
Category: El Mariachi Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Child Death, F/M, Murder, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 10:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TornThorn/pseuds/TH
Summary: The shoot-out at the village, by General Marquez, from El's POV.





	The Moment Things Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to FFN 7/7/10

He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of working so hard to keep Carolina and their little girl safe. He had had enough. He wanted to put the old case away.

So when they found the little town, where all the people were a loose-knit family, and the source of income was crafting guitars, he decided it was a sign. It was perfect.

They moved into the quarters off the big, old church as caretakers. The quiet and the peace were a blessing. And the dusty town's inhabitants welcomed El and his wife and daughter easily. When the village children found him playing an old lullaby on a newly finished instrument, they grabbed his hands and pulled him to the town square. He sat at the edge of the well and played and sang for hours, while the children danced. By the time the hot sun dipped over the horizon, the entire town was having a party. Food and laughter and games popped up everywhere. And always, in the background, was the sweet sound El's fingers coaxed from his guitar, as he watched Carolina and little Selene smile and dance.

He could not remember ever being happier.

And for a time, they could even believe they were safe. That no one would come looking for them. That things would finally work out right.

He should have known better. After all, "_Árbol que crece torcido jamás se tronco endereza_". (The tree that grows crocked will never straighten its trunk.)

He was on the edge of town when it all went to hell. He heard the yelling and the smashing of windows and flesh. Women were shrieking and the men were yelling angrily, and a little girl was screaming, over and over "Leave my mama alone!"

He knew that they had been discovered. But how? The Devil himself could not have found them. Someone had given them up. He swore, on whatever honor he had left, that whoever it was would be made to pay. He would find them, if he had to hunt them to the end of the earth.

Then all that was forgotten as he ran. His guitar case, the damn case that had gotten him mixed up in all of this to begin with, was in the church. He would never make it in time. They had finally felt safe enough for him to put it away. And he would regret that for the rest of his life.

El ran desperately towards the main square, fighting the need to scream. He arrived just in time to see the soldiers fire on the crowd. People were falling everywhere. He knew he should care, but all he could care about were Carolina and Selene. They were his life. They had made him put his past behind him. They were everything to him.

And then he saw them. Carolina stood tall, protecting and hiding Selene behind her. And facing them was General Márquez.

_No. No, please God, let this be some terrible dream!_

As the bullets mowed down Carolina, and his darling little Selene began to cry, El ran forward.

He felt the first slug slam into him, feeling like a bull had plowed into his side. The bullets kept coming, and he went down. But he came up, again and again, as though he was uninjured, as if he felt no pain.

He was far too late. When he finally lay, blood soaking into the earth, he closed his eyes and let the tears come.

_I've failed them._

A soldier came over and kicked him in the ribs, and El could not even move.

He let himself sink away, following the river of his blood away from himself and his useless body. He was gone.

And then he wasn't.

El woke to a potent combination of numbness and pain. He tried to remember...

And then he didn't want to.

_They are dead. My family… my family is dead._

And he remembered who had killed them. The banked fire in his heart began to rage and burn, with all the force and fires of Hell.

He would help rebuild the village, help the families of those that remained, who had paid for his folly of believing he could have a quiet life. He would make things right.

Then El Mariachi would take up his instruments of death and he would kill General Márquez.

This was now his goal. This was now his life. He swore it.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also originally had a bunch of gratuitous, badly translated Spanish thrown in, which has been cut with the exception of a single proverb.


End file.
